I called you my Ruth,
but you refused Ruth to Root
Your name is like a silver spoon,
but you prefer to be called back of a pot that is as dark as charcoal
You are Ruthless from birth
You have no Root called Ruth.
I prefer to stand strong on the ground,
but you've sent a strong wind to uproot me
Forcing me to change my name from Ruth to Root
But you've never allowed your friend to change his name from Ghost to Spirit
Thereby eating the Corn from Maize.
I'm a humble bee,
But do not allow me Be
For the Charity is now Vanity
Taking the van to eternity
Refusing to kiss the Jesus Cross
but received a certificate of kissing your man's cross.
I have traveled to Cross River,
thereby crossing the river with cross
Visiting Ruth in the Rootless state,
Causing the head to bow like a respected axe.
Dear Ruthless,
allow me to visit you at University of Calabar
Where i will gain admission to study calabash in the University
Traveling from Owerri to Taliban
To uproot the repented Bokoharam whose name are not Ruth but Rootless in nature...
Categories:
calabar, 3rd grade,
Form: Rhyme
We were told stories
Stories of the hunter demon
Haunting our children
In the dark of the moon
The faceless beast
A silhouette in the night
With a visage defined only
By juvenile imagination
Creeping along our dark spines
And halting body movement
It feeds off our fear.
An African pennywise.
A reality or mirage?
An illusion or memory?
None can verify the truth
Of the legendary ojuju Calabar
Categories:
calabar, evil, fantasy, mystery, myth,
Form: Quatrain
Author: Okechukwu Iroegbu
Title: Let them hear...
Let them hear...
From the hills of Isuikwuato
My sleepy hilly land'e
From my new'est bride Uyo
To the ancient muds of Enugu
From Makurdi's Benue river beach
To those peaked crags of Jos
Let them hear...
As I dream of the undying
Lights of the Lagoon city
The snake lanes of Abuja
Cockcroachin' thru undergrounds
From the deserts of Damaturu
And the grasslands of Jalingo
Let them hear...
That I am a citizen of Owerri town
That my Calabar is very pretty
That Ibadan I adore so much
That Minna is a scenic beauty
That Kano makes much of the Suya I love so
much
That Port Harcourt is really a city of liberty
Let them hear...
That I love you my Nigeria
Categories:
calabar, africa
Form: ABC
Witches and warlocks gather around,
will give you a list of poisons abound…
Arsenic, Hemlock, Belladonna you know…
Add to your list, these below;
Purple Foxglove; Black Hellebore;
Deadly Nightshade; Strychnine Tree;
Stavesacre; Jimsonweed; Yew;
Calabar Bean; Aconite; Clematis;
Cocculus Indicus and to many
more to mention…
You will find truth serum, sulfur
elixir, embalming fluid, spider venom,
snake venom too…
Toxic gases are a must, to mix
with this dastardly stuff…
How else will you be able to
whip up this nasty brew…
Wishing you a rocking Halloween!
By Sandra Lea Hoban
©2009
Categories:
calabar, funny, holiday, seasons,
Form: Rhyme
Clean, green, and grassy
Goddesses in the streets
Atmosphere lost in lust
Tourists appetite satisfied by the goddesses
An army of palm-wine cascading from the Duke's town
The resurrection of Honesty at the scent of palm wine
Peacocks full of pride, a symbol of the efiks
Silent as we descended from the devil's bow
Ranch ranting
Girls trading
Boys smoking
Snails snoring
Angels in the brothels
Trees trimming
Devils in the church
Yes, a holy a combination
Yes, this is Calabar
awoh awoh
Categories:
calabar, dedication,
Form: Bio
Mother! Mother!! Mother!!!
Mighty you are with others,
Your son is in another man
Slavery.
Your beauty as wide as 23, 074.425 s.qkm
You lie between Latitude 4.29 north and
5.49 north equator
And in this mountains comes
Him that enslave your son
Exploiting, ranging and making
Empty in the sun.
Brother (Bakassi) your brother
And sisters, cry, fight, fast for your
Freedom from Friends
Labor hard us eighteen but your
Slavery made us seventeen,
Mother was not bless with children
The family tight is high
Your sacks are in a located Sister.
Mother your son is not like a
Doctor that goes out, not
Coming home.
Mother, mother bring brother
Back so he can pay our fees.
The son of cross River and Calabar River
Grand-son of the Atlantic
Come back brother, come back.
Categories:
calabar, depression, son, son,
Form: Free verse
Calabar, my birth place of adventure
The ebb of motherhood
There i originated
In your tropical forest was my image carved
Calabar, your beauty is taller than the palm trees
Your dogs barks in the gravels of my mouth
Your palm wine lubricate
In the shadow of your women i soar
A memory of the legend
Your hills are never ills
You valleys float with vigor
In your calabash i abode
In the wombs of your snails i snore
In the shadow of your snow is an ice for the Eskimo
Your Street like Eden
Calabar, a virgin
Your rivers speaks many languages
Calabar, my home.
Categories:
calabar, dedication,
Form: I do not know?